Unjustified
by Lokis-Tesseract
Summary: Lara Rogers thought that her life had been planned out. Her adoptive father- Steve Rogers- Along with the rest of her adoptive SHIELD family, have kept a dark secret from her, something that could potentially destroy more than one of the nine realms. But when a certain God of mischief crosses paths with the Norse Mythology addicted girl, things begin to change. Loki/OC T-Violence
1. Chapter 1

12 Years Ago:

_"Hey Steve, I know this is your second mission with us, but you know you don't need to be so on guard, right? Steve?"_

_Steve paced around the area, the strange storm activity wasn't showing any signs of dissipating, and all of the shield agents were getting anxious._

_They were posted on the coldest region in the world, the icy tundra of Antarctica. The snow and loose fragments of ice crunched beneath his boots, the frigid air stung his lungs, making breathing difficult_

_"Steve, are you listening?" he continued to pace, something told him that whatever was happening here, it was about to happen._

_"captain?" Steve stopped walking and shifted his gaze onto agent Ross, "I can-"_

_That's when the storm clouds shifted, cutting Steve off from his sentence, forming a dark, ominous funnel over head. A wide beam of light, filled with an assortment of colors struck down upon the ice, some of which Steve never thought could exist, it was beautiful. Accompanying the powerful spectacle was an ear splitting round of thunderous sound._

_This display lasted for about three seconds, disappearing as quickly as it came, leaving Steve and the others in a state of awe._

_Then, through the thickening silence, came the sound of a child sobbing. The noise was coming from the center of the blast, which was concealed by a thick white mist, the result of the collision between the light and the ice._

_"...hear you..." Steve whispered, absently finishing his sentence, whether it was aimed to agent Ross or the crying, he didn't know._

_That's when he started walking, slowly at first, one foot in front of the other, then breaking into a jog, heading toward the noise._

_"captain! Wait, we don't know what could be in there!" he ignored the cries from agent Ross and the others, he figured that if he could survive stuck in the ice for so long, a little more time or even some radiation won't kill him. And besides, if there's a chance that SOMETHING was there, and It needed his help, he would be there._

_"captain, Stop!" he paused for a moment, glancing over his shoulder to give the agents a curt nod, before vanishing into the curtain of white. As soon as he broke through the cold mist, he stopped, the smoke had seemingly disappeared, but It was actually surrounding the point where the blast touched the ground, leaving some kind of strange, alien like scripture. but that's not what made him stop so quickly, it was what was lying in the center of the circle, which was only a few Meters wide._

_It was a girl, aged to be about five, maybe six. Her strangely angelic cries seemed to cut straight down to his heart, drilling into him until his limbs obeyed and he picked her up off the ground. The moment he touched her, the crying ceased. Slate silver eyes stared up at him innocently, little red flakes sparkling within their depths._

_The next thing he noticed was how small she was, her skin pale and lips blue from the cold. Almost immediately, Steve undid the clasp holding his armor in place, shifting his arm so she could fit in place, sharing his warmth with her._

_One by one, shield agents poured in around them, aww stricken by the sight of the girl. Some brought over bundles of fur coats, wrapping her up as Steve walked her back to the base, refusing to place her in another agents care._

_"agent Ross, call in director fury."_

_Ross nodded, his phone already pressed to his ear. "director? You might want to come down here..."_

* * *

The alarm clock was motionless, counting down the seconds until its awfully loud bell would sound and indicate it was six am. Time for work.

The sun hadn't risen yet, so the room was still cast in shadow. Hidden by the curtains, several books, all on Norse mythology, lay on the window sill, neatly stacked and covered in a thin sheet of dust. On the bookshelf, a large picture of a man with light brown, almost blonde, hair and tanzanite eyes in a wooden frame rested, wiped clean of dust. A large poster of a black mustang with melancholic eyes stood guard above the headboard. The bed frame itself was white and decorated with a sheet of dust. To the right of the bed, backed up against the wall, was a glass display case-dresser, beneath the semi clear glass was a collection of rare stones, most of them gems, along with a dagger, its golden hilt decorated with flakes of green.

In the bed lay a girl, silver eyes wide and open, staring up at the ceiling. The girl, known as Lara Rogers, wasn't exactly your average, most ordinary seventeen year old girl. She had waist length dark wavy brown hair. Her eyes were a peculiar shade of pale silver, ruby specks glinting in their depths.

She was waiting for that great clanging alarm to sound, waiting for it to be time to get up and face the world. She hadn't slept much that night, her mind having been consumed by thoughts of the previous day…

_The day before:_

_'Thor in the land of the giants:_

_One day Thor turned to Loki and said; "I'm tired of simply lying around in Asgard. There is nothing to do, nothing to test my mighty strength against."_

_"Well," said Loki to Thor," There is no point in testing it against my wits for I would certainly win!"_

_"Never!" said Thor, "Brawn is always better than brain, all it needs is exercise. Loki, how do you think I'd fare in giant-land?"_

_"I don't know," replied Loki, "I suppose there is only one way to find out."_

_And that was how Thor and Loki began their adventure to the land of the giants…_

_Turning redder by the minute Thor asked Utgar-Loki, "But what of the old woman?"_

_"Ah," said the chief, "The old woman was someone no one can or ever will beat, no matter how hard they try, Old Age."_

_Furious Thor reached for his hammer to teach the impetuous giant a lesson, but when he turned around the giant was nowhere to be seen. Not to be outdone Thor stormed back towards the castle intending to turn it into nothing more than rubble, but when he got there the castle was gone, there was nothing except an open sky and green fields._

_And so Thor and his companions returned to Asgard._

_"Like I told you Thor," said Loki with a grin, "The cunning shall always defeat the strong."_

_"I'd like to see you tell that to my hammer." growled Thor.'_

Lara smiled, this was by far one of her favorite stories, ever since she was a child, she had shown a deep interest into Norse mythology. The book itself was old, the paper wrinkled and faded in most areas, the binding could use some new stitching and the cover had been missing for a good five years. Nonetheless, Lara absolutely adored it. The old story of the two brothers, Thor and Loki, so alike yet… so different, they were polar opposites. Thor being all brawn and little to no brain, and then there was Loki.

Loki. The god of mischief, lies and deceit. That in itself was enough to describe him, unwavering and bold, yet flexible and careful, always ten steps ahead. Definitely someone one would not want to meet in battle, though she supposed Thor's hammer wasn't really an exception to that.

Yet every time she tried to picture Thor, she saw a lumberjack, except instead of an axe he carried a mighty hammer, with a bolt of silver lightning illuminating the tip, the man shrouded in carved gold armor. But Loki- he was a different story. She saw nothing, absolute darkness. It was as if someone of his description didn't even exist, well he didn't, (not to her knowledge.)

Even if the Asguardians did exist, and Loki was-

"Lara? Fury wants to see us. Ten minutes."

She breathed out a heavy a sigh, shutting the book and placing it on the dresser. If only ten minutes was time enough for a shower…

"Lara?" Her fathers voice seemed to echo straight into the room, "I'm coming, give me a second." She loved Steve to death, but he seriously did not understand that she was a teenage girl, waking up and getting dressed takes a little longer than the ten seconds he was willing to give her.

In a record of eight minutes and fifty seven seconds, Lara emerged from the room, dressed in a pair of brand new black skinny jeans (which proved to take up five or her eight minutes and however many seconds,) a plain silver tank top, and a simple black hoodie over that.

Steve, also known as 'Captain' or 'Cap' by Tony, was standing across the door, dressed in a plain white tee shirt, light gray jeans, and a tan jacket. He eyed her clothing, trying in vain to look indifferent. He had the strange suspicion that Lara was slowly turning goth or emo, whatever people called it these days, Tony referred to it as "the dark side." Lara on the other hand, didn't see why he cared about it so much, but Steve was a bit old fashioned. Which made sense.

He let out a short sigh, unfolding his arms from around his chest and pushing off the back of the wall, "Ready?" Lara nodded, not bothering to ask what it was Fury could possibly want now.

Lara pondered what the easily infuriated commander could possibly want, the chrome walls of the helicarrier reflecting a blurred image of the pair. Countless rooms of other agents, labs, storage closets, weaponry, a bathroom or two. Anything necessary, as Fury deemed it, was on this carrier. There was even a training room, which resembled a large gymnasium, which where one could normally find Steve, punching away at an innocent punching bag like his life depended on it. Of course the bag always lost in the end anyway, not that it mattered.

Next to the gym, on the same level, was a more enclosed training room. It was designed for the more… specialized occupants, or visitors, of the helicarrier, including her. The walls itself were easily a few feet thick, no one knew exactly, except maybe Tony, but only because he periodically hacks SHIELD's database.

After a few minutes of walking through the maze of metal halls, the two agents reached the debriefing room. An unnaturally calm and collected Fury stood at the front of several monitors. He turned when they entered, Steve offering him a curt, respectful nod. Hawkeye, formally named Clint Barton, informally named Hawky (or Tweety, depending on his mood,) by Tony. He stood above them, on the balcony, bow in hand. Nothing unusual about that. His eyes forever on lookout over the others.

"Actually, Captain… This mission is not being assigned to you. Its for Lara and agent Barton." Clints eyes flickered down for a brief half second at the mention of his name, but its clear by the expression on his face he had already been briefed about their mission. Steve furrowed his brows, tilting his head back slightly to observe the archer.

"Are you asking me to leave? Sir." He shifted his blue gaze back onto the director, though his voice didn't hold any malice or resentment. With Steve it was just that, plain. Following orders.

"If you would, I will inform you later on where Lara will be headed." Steve seemed to visibly relax, nodding his head and turning to leave. Lara hadn't even noticed how stiff her father was until his muscles relaxed.

Once Steve had departed from the room, Clint slid through the railing and landed on his feet next to Lara, the swift movement causing the metal floor to rattle unsettlingly.

"Coulson's got everything ready to go, sir, I'll brief her on the way out." Fury narrowed his eyes, well, eye.

"Fine. Tell him to-"

"Wait, we're leaving now?" The two older men blinked, turning to her as if they had forgotten she existed, Clint spoke up first.

"Well yeah…?" He seemed to share a look with the director, before shrugging, "I'll have him call you, sir." With that he walked past the two of them, placing his bow back onto his back, Lara on his heels within a moments' hesitation.

Fury sighed, "Don't even bother…" He muttered under his breath, turning back around to finish a discussion, or rather, an argument, with the monitor.

"Clint, slow down… I don't see why you walk like the worlds ending all the time." Lara muttered, struggling to keep up with his long strides. He glanced down to her, "Sorry. You don't care about the mission, do you?"

"Not really."

"Good, I don't need to waste my breath than." She smiled at that, shaking her head as he lead her down a familiar set of halls and eventually to a flight of stairs, leading onto the top of the helicarrier, he nodded over to one of the jets. "There's our ride."

* * *

Within the next couple hours the two agents of SHIELD had landed in New Mexico, where a makeshift base was already being set up around what appeared to be a hammer like object. From what Lara was told, it couldn't be removed from the ground, for whatever reason. Clint had been summoned to keep lookout on the base, spending most of his time in a tower above the other lookouts, watching and waiting. Lara had been requested not for her fighting capabilities, but for her knowledge of norse mythology.

"What does Norse mythology have to do with this?" She asked agent Coulson, he was leading her through the camp, which was still partially being built. She hadn't seen the hammer yet, and all she had with her was a backpack with a spare set of clothes, a toothbrush, and one of her many books.

"You'll see." Lara scoffed lightly, that seemed to be Coulson's favorite phrase.

Once the center of the base, and the blurred rocky object that was supposed to be a hammer came into sight, Coulson began to speak. "Fury sent you because you're the only agent with a considerable knowledge on norse mythology. The hammer has norse runes on it. That's why you're here."

"So you want me to decipher the runes?" She asked, trying to peer through the glass wall while walking alongside Coulson.

"Yes, well. That, and find out where it came from." He handed her an overstuffed manila folder, "Look that over now. You've been given a small room to work in, obviously we're not very established here yet, but by tonight, you'll be allowed to see the hammer. Our scientists are scanning it now for any dangerous signatures, chemicals, micro0organisms, stuff of that nature."

She nodded, "Alright… In the meantime, I need a car." Coulson stopped walking abruptly, nearly making Lara bump into him.

"A car?" He turned to her, "Why would you need a car?"

She raised an eyebrow, "You seriously expect me to work with a bunch of sweaty, middle aged men working on construction around me? No thanks. Besides, I need a few things. There's a town a ways down the road, right?"

Phil sighed, taking out a set of keys from his pocket. "First one to your left. Don't break it." She smirked, "Thank you uncle Phil!" He shook his head, as if suddenly regretting giving her the keys, "If you're not back in three hours, I'm sending the Hawk after you!"

Lara just laughed, it was funny how protective the agents were over her, especially Phil and Steve, as if she couldn't take care of herself.

It was like worrying about agent Romanoff.

She got into the black Acura, her combat boots dragging dust onto the newly vacuumed interior. The engine started on the first turn of the key, and within a few minutes and after quite some time honking at agents to get out of the cars way, Lara was speeding down the dirt road towards the small town, which she later learned was named Puente Antiguo.

* * *

The town itself was pretty secluded, the air itself felt stiff and the land dry, drained of its moisture by the unbearable heat of the ruthless sun beaming down on its residents. A few cacti lingered on its perimeter, replaced by weeds the further in you walked. Cars and trucks of assorted colors and sizes sat parked on the sides of the busier streets, a few trucks passed by her, covering the black Acura in a film of browning dust. Sorry Phil.

There weren't very many people in this town, at the most maybe five or six hundred, and even that seemed like a lot. The streets were nearly bare, with a few rough looking people standing outside of a pub and walking along sidewalks.

One of the men, a red bearded brute with yellow teeth and tired eyes whistled wolfishly as she passed. Lara had to force the urge to burn him to a crisp down, which wasn't very fair considering the fact that if Steve was there… The poor man.

After asking around with the less disheveled residents of Puente Antiguo, Lara found her way into a small book store, it wasn't very big to start with. The walls were a faded yellow, the paint beginning to peel and the shelves were made from wood, dyed darker to give it contrast against the yellow walls, giving the small space character.

As she walked through the aisles of books, one in particular caught her eye. It was older, covered in dust, much like everything else. It had brown bindings and a Norse symbol on the outside. She opened the cover, flipped through a few pages, and there it was. Mjölnir, the mighty hammer of Thor, the God of thunder. Beneath it was a brief description and synopsis of the hammer, next to it, of course, on a different page, was Thor, and next to the powerful God was Loki. The God of mischief, lies, and deceit.

After a good hour of flipping through the pages of the book, Lara knew she had to start getting back to Phil, or else he would kill her. Or probably send Clint to do the job, but Clint was like a brother to her.

He would probably attempt to kill her, then feel bad about it and buy her ice cream on the way home.

As a matter of fact, ice cream was something that had never appealed to Lara, actually, that was the same for anything relatively _cold_. In contrary, the heat here felt wonderful, heavenly, irrevocable.

But she had always been that way, and SHIELD had concluded that it was due to the abilities she possessed, which resulted from an accident in one of SHIELD's radiation labs when she was four.

At least, that's what they had told her.

Lara shook off the thoughts of SHIELD, they raised her, there was no reason for them to lie to her. It didn't matter anyway, she was happy. She had a family, a strange one, but no one in SHIELD was classified as normal anyway. Rather be a daughter of SHIELD than a sad orphan on the streets of New York.

Sighing, Lara took out her phone, quickly taking pictures of the three pages. Technically she only needed the two on Mjölnir and Thor, but there was no harm in snapping a picture of Loki's as well, it intrigued her enough to do so.

Lara was able to run into an art store, having them blow up the pictures and print them out, while she bought a small sketchbook and a pack of charcoal pencils. Soon she had obtained everything she thought she needed, filled the gas tank in Phil's car, and made it back to the camp within the hour.

* * *

"Get. Out. Of. My. Room!" Clint chuckled, tilting his head to the side as she entered the room, which thankfully now had walls.

"You could at least thank me, I did build it for you."

Lara scoffed, "No. You _watched_ people build it for me, now get out!"

He ignored her, "Whats that?" His eyes were focused on the bag from the craft store.

"Just a few pictures, paper, pencils… Does it matter? Why are you still here?"

Again, the assassin ignored her, "What for?"

Lara sighed, seeing the cocky smirk forming on his lips from the frustration present on her face. "Your impossible…" She mumbled, returning to the hall way, walking through the structure that reminded her of a hamster cage, and then into the room with the hammer.

She stopped, frozen in the doorway. "Whoa…" She murmured, feeling strangely weak. The hammer was exactly the same as the one in the picture, of course the only difference was that this hammer was in the flesh. Real. Not a picture.

Could that mean…?

No of course not. There were plenty of Viking relics left behind in honor of the Gods, especially of Thor's hammer. But then again, relics don't just fall out of the sky, did they?

Lara inhaled deeply, it was just a myth. All she had to do was decipher the writing, figure out where it came from, and then she can go home and drink some hot chocolate with Steve, maybe teach him how to use a smart phone…

* * *

Alarms had begun to go off, agents were yelling left in right, drawing Lara from the sleep she had been in. She was sitting in one of the chairs next to the hammer, her sketchbook open and a drawing of the hammer, and the norse symbols, the ones visible at least, sat on the ground. She furrowed her brows, a few drops of water starting to stain the page, rain. The photographs of the book sat on the ground next to it, Loki on top.

More yelling, an intruder? Before Lara had a chance to reach for her items, an agent grabbed her, pulling her out of the room and to 'safety,' which was just behind the glass on the opposite end of the entrance. She could see Phil talking into a walkie talkie on one side, the expression on his face clear: someone's going to make him do a lot of paper work…

Why hadn't Clint taken him out? Of course he was watching, in the tower as usual. Had he been taken out? Or was Phil hesitating for some reason? Her stomach dropped at the thought of Clint, being captured, or even possibly killed. She shook it off, that wasn't possible.

Was it?

Just then, a man, with blonde hair that passed his shoulders, and a short, well trimmed beard broke into the hammers containment room. Lara instinctively jumped back, even though she was on the other side of the glass, he was huge, and he had just single handedly broke through a SHIELD base. Rain was dripping down his face, through his golden mane, and joining the sloppy mud on the ground. He was wearing a blue tee, which was about a size too small, most likely it was borrowed.

He seemed to smile when the hammer came into view, as if he had just found his most prized possession, the greatest thing in the world. It almost broke Lara's heart, watching him fail to pull it from its rocky sheathe, his muscles straining to move it move, his lips parting in a pained scream. Agony.

Then, agents stormed into the room. The man now resigned, broken. Was the hammer somehow his? Or was he on drugs?

As a matter of fact he did resemble… Lara's slate colored eyes glanced down at the photographs on the floor next to the hammer. No… that was impossible. Besides, if he really was Thor… He should have lifted the hammer.

Right?

* * *

The SHIELD agents had brought the man into a separate holding room, tying him down to a chair in the center. For some reason he had stopped resisting them.

Lara managed to snap herself out of the shock of it all, running after them. She had to talk to the man before Phil, she needed to know. She needed to know who he was, how he did what he just did, and why he did it.

Lara found herself hesitating outside the glass, Coulson already turning to leave. The man apparently not giving him the answers he sought. She was afraid. Her hands were balled up at her sides, clenched tightly that her knuckles were white, and even then they shook.

Just as she reached the glass door, there was a different man in the room. This one was much different than the golden haired man. His eyes were a dark, almost sinister, shade of green. He had obsidian black hair, which appeared tousled, but neat at the same time, slicked back over his head, contrasting sharply next to his pale complexion.

Lara froze, taking an immediate step back. Whatever conversation the black haired man was having with his counterpart had stopped. The two men seemed to grasp the feeling of being watched, and slowly, aching slowly, the raven haired mans' melancholic eyes landed on Lara's.

The look was predatory, terrifyingly so, he resembled to her, a panther. Which, despite the lion sitting next to him, was more lethal and cunning then the other. Always hunting in the darkness. Waiting and listening, striking at the perfect moment to take its prey down…

So she did what any other piece of prey would. She ran.

Her sudden flight response seemed to only peak the mans interest. Though a part of him looked rather shocked, none of the other mortals could see the God, as he was now. So why could she?

Lara ended up in the room with Mjölnir, somehow feeling a false sense of safety from the useless hammer. Her eyes shifted away from the hammer, and onto the ground, where her notebook lay, ruined and muddied. The photographs splayed out across the area from the bearded mans frenzy.

She stood up and made her way towards them, picking them up. Her notebook, Thor, Mjölnir, and… Loki? Where was Loki's?

"This is rather intriguing to me… Why a mortal would have such interest in such a thing, I'm sure you can see me, correct?"

Lara closed her eyes, standing up straight, half aware of the mud ruining her boots and jeans.

"Of course I can see you… Who are you? What are you doing here? This is unauthorized ground."

The green eyed man chuckled, turning the half soaked photograph around so she could see its contents.

"Oh but I think you know exactly who I am."


	2. Chapter 2

The mans fingers lightly traced the outline of the picture- the picture of Loki. The photograph, in her eyes, was perfectly clear, despite the wrinkled corners and the rain blending the colors together, dripping to the ground in drops of murky black.

Lara swallowed heavily, taking a step back as she looked up into the mans green stare, which seemed to be encased in a thick layer of Ice, and yet burning with hatred, like venom, it's affect equally afflicting, making her head spin.

But that wasn't hatred she saw, burning in his eyes, it was pain, Unfathomable amounts of pain.

And then, suddenly, as he disappeared physically, she felt her own body falling backwards, slumping heavily against the glass wall, mud sticking to her like a fresh layer of clothing, staining the glass as well. Where the man once stood, the photograph lay, strangely enough, it was dry, the color returning to its appropriate setting, the wrinkles smoothing out, and the mud dissipating. It wasn't Thor, or the hammer, it was Loki. The God of mischief, lies, and deceit.

And he wasn't just on the paper anymore.

The window was partially open, the parchment colored curtains blew into the room, fluttering in the frigid wind, which traveled to caress Lara's pale cheek, drawing her out of sleep. She sat up slowly, blinking the foggy cloud that was sleep out of her silver optics.

Why was it so cold?

Right. She wasn't in the helicarrier, where it was literally illegal to open your window, less a bird fly in or the ship were to fall back into the ocean. Lovely that would be waking up to.

A sigh reverberated through Lara's throat as she peered around the small room. Of course it wasn't hers.

Her room was never this cold. And those weren't her curtains either, that floated out from the temporary makeshift windows of the research base. Their function was just to simply block out any view from anyone looking in.

Lara stood up, achingly slowly, she approached the window, another gust of frigid wind brushed past her, sending a shiver coursing through her body. Her fingers pulled the thinly covered paper that served as a window down, clicking it back into place securely. But not before another icy rush of wind tickled her cheek, sending her thoughts spiraling back into the night before, as if it was the mans icy touch caressing her cheek as they did the photograph, and not the wind. The paper detached itself suddenly as a colder breeze passed into the room, startling Lara out of her daydream and causing her to slam the paper window shit, her arms shaking slightly.

She groaned loudly, rubbing her forehead with the palm of her hand. What was wrong with her?

"Should I come back later...?"

She jumped again, whirling around to face Clint, her hair flying up in what could only be described as a hurricane of chestnut waves, the window unraveling itself behind her for the third time.

"Damn it... You-"

"Made you piss yourself? I can tell."

"Shut up, it's not funny. What do you want?"

"Wow. Not even a good morning?

What's up with you?" Clint made himself perfectly at home, striding into her room, complete with a pair of light blue jeans, a black tee shirt, and a black shield vest on top of that.

"Nothing, get out of my room... What time is it?" In building this place, they had deprived her of the one thing needed to survive and keep her sanity: a fucking clock. Was that too much?

"No, I built it. And it's like two thirty."

"You didn't build it, your men built it..."

"But I watched!"

"Your unbelievable..." She sighed, "Why are you in my room Clint..."

"Well... I was standing in my tower, like the lost little princess I am, and I came across this hairy beast fighting with her window. I thought I would come and settle their dispute before someone got hurt."

Lara couldn't help but smile, "Thanks Fiona," she did have a thing for Shrek. "I'm glad you're taking the windows side over mine."

He chuckled, pushing himself up and walking over to one of her bags, of course, there was no privacy with him. "Here, since I'm on the windows side, I'll help you slay the beast." He pulled out a brush, motioning for her to sit down. When she refused- which refers to stomping her foot and folding her arms over her chest stubbornly- he walked over to her, shut the window, then dragged her over to the bed.

She giggled like a child, "Fiona! Let go of me! Or I'll-"

Clint rolled his eyes, sitting on the edge of the bed and brushing out the rats next that had formed in place of her hair. "Or you'll what? Call Steve? We've already been over this."

For some reason Clint was convinced that If he ever got into a fight with Steve- a real fight- he would win. His reasoning being that he could shoot Steve from afar, while Steve is mostly only a short range fighter, unless he has a gun or decides to throw his shield, which was easily dodged. Lara didn't like to think about that, the odds of the two most important people in her life fighting each other.

Despite the soothing feeling of having someone else brush out her hair, Lara felt an involuntary shudder flow through her at the thought of the people she held most dear ever fighting. It was her worse fear. What was the likelihood of that?

She murmured, her voice soft as velvet. Clint sighed, setting the brush aside when her hair was tamed. In his eyes, Lara was still the helpless little girl Steve had carried onto the SHIELD base when he first came back.

"Lara, whats wrong? Just tell me, I'm the guy who sneaks you out of of the hellicarrier for ice cream, remember? You can tell me anything."

Lara chuckled softly, standing up and walking over to one of her bags, pulling out a small, slate colored box, "Ihate ice cream... your the one who eats it. While-"

"-While Tony tries to have Jarvis run a test on you to figure out what the hell was wrong with you? A teenager not liking ice cream? Yeah, I remember." Smiling at the memory, Lara walked back over to the bed, sitting down on the floor next to clints feet. "I think I'm ready."

"Ready? To try ice cream again?" He narrowed his eyes, his expression becoming unreadable, it was clear- he didnt like what he was about to hear.

"I'm ready to figure out what this is."

Lara opened the box, inside, on a little black plush cushion, sat a scarlet ruby, about the size of Lara's palm. There was a hole carved into it where the chain of a necklace could slide through to be worn. The gem itself was smooth and cut skillfully on one side, while the other was jagged, almost flat. As if it had been split in two.

"Got you!" The small, raven haired boy lunged forwards, tackling the even smaller girl off of the adomen. She squeaked in surprise when they both tumbled down onto the soft carpet of the room, sheets and pillows that had been set up around them as a fort tumbled down on top of the children, aged seven and eight.

"No fair, you cheated! The couch is neutral territory!" She giggled, poking his forehead as if to make a point. "Numpty."

"Your the numpty one here! The adomen was your ship. Ships fly in the air, so technically you were next to Asgard. Not on it." He retorted, rolling off of her and laying on his back, arms behind his head.

"But Asgardians always win." she grinned, throwing herself on top of him, throwing a plush, golden pillow down on his face, "Now die you troll!"

They both laughed, the boys arms rising to block the frail, but swift blows from the harmless weapon. "Kalliste... you're crazy," He grabbed the pillow and smirked up at her, white feathers clinging to his obsidian hair and dotting her chocolate locks.

"Look at you, making such a mess, when thats not even the real enemy."

Kalliste looked behind her quickly, in response to the second voice. "You... But how?" He chuckled softly, holding up a dark red jewel. She looked back down at the pilllow she was holding, the boys emerald eyes flashed in amusement, "I win, numpty."

The figure beneath her faded away in a stream of green light. "Loki! Your such a cheater!"

Loki sat up sharply, his emerald eyes a fraction wider then normal, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

The room, the prince of Asgards living quarters, was built in the same fashion as much of the rest of the palace. The golden walls and silk fabrics along the bed seeme**d **to shimmer with a light green hue. The ground was lime stone, mixed with a collection of precious and semi precious stones, polished to shine and to never scratch. On the far wall, next to a wide balcony, was a set of assorted daggers, lined up in an organized fashion. Beneath the daggers was a glass case, seated upon a black and gold pedestal, inside lay the red stone from the dream. Lying in several fragmented pieces, some to small to pick up without the use of magic, though the majority of the gem was in one piece, it was still only halfway complete. Further down the length of the wall, next to the bed where the god of mischief sat, was a dresser to match the pedastal, as well as the bed and a few bookcases on the opposite end of the room, though they were shrouded in a film of dust. On the dresser was the signature golden horned helmet belonging to Loki himself, recently polished and shining. His septor leaned up against the smooth wall.

"Kalliste..." The name escaped his lips before he could control his tongue, the remembrance unearthing memories he had buried long ago. But why had they suddenly resurfaced?

Loki stood, exhaling slowly and lifting his hand to brush a few loose dark strands of hair out of his face. The morning sunlight shining in through the open balcony reminded him of the time, and what he was now to do. Odin was in the Odinsleep, his mother weary and remaining by her lovers side, while Thor remained a prisoner on Earth.

This was his chance. To rule. Like he was always meant to.

And no mortal that happened to resemble Kalliste was going to get in the way of that**.**

* * *

**Hey guys sorry for such the long wait. We've both been really busy with school and we had some problems with our computers. Anyways thanks for reading and let us know what you think!**


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